Alistair: The Closet Monster
by Jaden Anderson
Summary: A gift for two fantastic writers. A wish is made, and a promise delivered. What would YOU do with your own personal Alistair?


*snicker* Okay - this was meant _**as a joke**_. I cannot express that enough haha. Just a stray thought that popped into my head that I had to get onto paper. Everything I write is so serious, I wanted to take a moment and appreciate the humorous side of life. And how better than to offer something my two dear friends The Original Frizzi and Eve Hawke would likely love to happen to them. I hope you enjoy this very short, and very odd, look into the way my mind works haha.

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Alistair: The Closet Monster

-.-

Sitting atop the bed, like a fancied throne, Eve Hawke snatched up a thick pillow and tucked it firmly into her chest. "You did what?" she whispered breathlessly, her tapered gaze darting to her young friend.

A sharp giggle spilled from her friend's lip as she pivoted on her heel to pin Eve with an excited stare. Such felicity danced in those peridot depths. "I didn't believe it myself!" she chortled as she skipped across the floor and stood before the closet.

"Go through it again, Frizzi," Eve cautioned her. "Every word."

Rolling her eyes, Frizzi tucked a stray lock of curly bright hair behind her rounded ear. "I was downtown today when this woman appeared from nowhere! For a moment all I could think was some fairy tale somewhere lost their treasured hag. She came up to me and told me I only had to make one wish, and it would come true."

"And so you wished for..."

Frizzi bowed at the waist, her palms cupping her mouth as she giggled into them. "I did! And it _came true, _Eve!"

"It came true..." Eve murmured before shaking her head avidly. "No, you're having me on. It isn't possible. This is the _real_ world-"

"Real?!" Frizzi laughed jubilantly. "That's the point, isn't it? He's _real_... Eve! Do you know what this means!"

"It means you need help," Eve decided in a firm voice. Her friend needed assistance, that was what this was. Psychiatric assistance. If she actually thought that -

Frizzi rounded and her fingers fell on the golden doorknob, winking once over her shoulder before yanking open the door.

Breath caught in her throat, Eve's hand rose to her chest, pressed flat against the fluttering beat of her heart.

"Oh, Alistair..." Frizzi sang in her best singing voice, daring to run her fingers down his bare chest.

Amber eyes snapped open, flicking wildly around the room, his breath spilling quickly from his lips. "What - Where - What -" he stuttered, his gaze rolling up as he pulled on the soft ribbons wound around his wrists.

"Dear Maker," Eve choked, leaning forward for a closer look.

It was... it was everything she'd ever imagined from the softly tussled hair to the full, pouty mouth, to the... lightly dusted bronzed chest that she suddenly couldn't tear her eyes from. Her gaze dipped south, trailing over the long, lean legs wrapped in muted black trousers hanging low on his hips. Every muscle shimmered in the dim light of Frizzi's closet, some marred with faint scarring from the Blight.

He strained against his bonds once more, drawing her attention up to the strong hands wrapped around the ties.

"Maker, this is like my worst nightmare come true," Alistair mumbled incoherently. "All that's missing is Isolde, standing in a corner, pointing and laughing at me. At least I have pants on, pants are good, unlike last time..."

"Last time," Frizzi giggle as she stooped over laughing. "Do you often end up places with no pants, Alistair?"

"Oh, you have no idea," he muttered as he speared them both with a troubled glance. "Um, would either of you be willing to maybe tell me just where I am?"

Eve could hardly breathe, lost to the sight of him tied up in her friend's closet. Surely, this was impossible, yet there he stood.

"Don't worry about that, sweet thing," Frizzi waved him off as she spun around to garner her friend's reaction.

Braving a step forward, Eve's gaze bounced between them both. There was far too much bliss sketched in Frizzi's face for this to be a prank, and he looked the carbon copy of all she'd seen in the game, and in her thoughts, right down to the... Oh Maker, her knees went weak the moment he flashed a small smile. Those dimples... those dimples she'd written about for so long popped out at her. She was quite sure she was about to swoon, and her hand fell on the dresser she passed for balance.

"Eve!" Frizzi chuckled. "He's here for us! To do with as we wish! Isn't this... amazing?"

"Amazing," she repeated fervently. That hardly covered it.

"Please, mi'lady," he murmured as his gaze raked over them both. "Could one of you untie me?"

"And lose our own personal closet monster?" Frizzi asked. "No, that just won't do. You're all ours, and I think I want a strip show."

Scarlet heat brightened his cheeks as his gaze dropped down his body. "Oh, Maker," he squeaked.

It certainly wouldn't be a very long show, but Eve perked up, and brushed her fingers against her lips. Their own personal closet monster... they could have him do anything. Anything at all.

The corner of her mouth tipped up - some of her deepest fantasies was about to come true.

Alistair: their own personal closet monster.

Things were about to get interesting.


End file.
